Chapter 6. Eating With Swine
When you're hungry all the time there's not much else you think about. Family members, friends, the past and future, are all subordinated to the task at hand: satisfying that inexorable gnawing hunger that consumes your attention. For Henry, it began as soon as he woke up till the time he went to sleep. It had been over two years since he was separated from his family members, yet he didn't cry anymore. In fact, he almost never thought about them, at least not consciously. Instead, his waking moments were filled with nothing but thoughts of survival: how to get enough food to stay alive. A bowl of watery soup once a day was not enough to sustain a human being. Henry had to steal food from the German soldiers or from the potato fields nearby. Fortunately he knew someone who was giving out the daily rations of soup and was making sure his scoop came from the bottom of the pot where some of the vegetables were lying. That helped a great deal but it wasn't enough.
If he was lucky he could make it one more day. But for what? When you were exhausted and of no more use to the Nazis, they would dispose of you like a broken part in a machine. Still, deep in his subconscious Henry had hope: an irrational belief that somehow things would be different tomorrow. Somehow—God knows how, but somehow—things would be better. After all, just a few years ago things were drastically different for him when he was living with his family in Radom. Compared to his situation at present, life then was great, even though they were living in squalor in the ghetto. Now, just a few years later, everything was different. Deep down inside himself, he believed that things could change quickly again for the better. As hard as it was to believe, he felt that the Germans could be stopped and he would be set free—free to find his family and to live his life as he chose. Remarkably, hope was still alive in him.
When he arrived at the labor camp in Vaihingen he was given a new uniform. He took off his old lice-ridden one that he had been wearing for almost two years. He knew that the new uniform was most likely worn by someone else who had died in it, but he didn't care. It was clean. He was allowed to work with his older cousin Leon in his tailor shop. The Germans needed a small group of tailors to mend their uniforms. Henry was one of ten people who had the privilege of working indoors, escaping the brutal cold of the outside. He knew nothing about tailoring when he started working there, but under Leon's tutelage he caught on quickly. Another older cousin of his, Saul, worked as a cobbler and was able to get him a decent pair of German army shoes as well. To Henry these were the most beautiful shoes he had ever seen. He felt privileged to have them and he guarded them with his life.
In order to survive on the tiny rations of food he was given, it would be necessary to obtain additional food somehow. Sometimes Henry or his friends Walter and Felix had to work in the airfield nearby in Unterriexingen, and there was a field of potatoes adjacent to it. They took turns sneaking the potatoes into the camp by rolling them under the fence when the German guards were not watching. Walter knew a little bit about electricity. At night when everyone was asleep, Henry, Walter, and Felix would cook their still-frozen potatoes by disconnecting the wires from the one light bulb in their barracks and using the electrical current to heat up water in a metal bowl. They had to be extra cautious not to get caught by the German soldiers or by the Jewish Kapos (trustee inmates) who patrolled the barracks at night keeping watch over several thousand men. Henry particularly hated these Kapos. He couldn’t understand how someone could turn on their fellow Jews in order to obtain special privileges from the Germans.
If he was lucky he could make it one more day. But for what? When you were exhausted and of no more use to the Nazis, they would dispose of you like a broken part in a machine. Still, deep in his subconscious Henry had hope: an irrational belief that somehow things would be different tomorrow. Somehow—God knows how, but somehow—things would be better. After all, just a few years ago things were drastically different for him when he was living with his family in Radom. Compared to his situation at present, life then was great, even though they were living in squalor in the ghetto. Now, just a few years later, everything was different. Deep down inside himself, he believed that things could change quickly again for the better. As hard as it was to believe, he felt that the Germans could be stopped and he would be set free—free to find his family and to live his life as he chose. Remarkably, hope was still alive in him.
When he arrived at the labor camp in Vaihingen he was given a new uniform. He took off his old lice-ridden one that he had been wearing for almost two years. He knew that the new uniform was most likely worn by someone else who had died in it, but he didn't care. It was clean. He was allowed to work with his older cousin Leon in his tailor shop. The Germans needed a small group of tailors to mend their uniforms. Henry was one of ten people who had the privilege of working indoors, escaping the brutal cold of the outside. He knew nothing about tailoring when he started working there, but under Leon's tutelage he caught on quickly. Another older cousin of his, Saul, worked as a cobbler and was able to get him a decent pair of German army shoes as well. To Henry these were the most beautiful shoes he had ever seen. He felt privileged to have them and he guarded them with his life.
In order to survive on the tiny rations of food he was given, it would be necessary to obtain additional food somehow. Sometimes Henry or his friends Walter and Felix had to work in the airfield nearby in Unterriexingen, and there was a field of potatoes adjacent to it. They took turns sneaking the potatoes into the camp by rolling them under the fence when the German guards were not watching. Walter knew a little bit about electricity. At night when everyone was asleep, Henry, Walter, and Felix would cook their still-frozen potatoes by disconnecting the wires from the one light bulb in their barracks and using the electrical current to heat up water in a metal bowl. They had to be extra cautious not to get caught by the German soldiers or by the Jewish Kapos (trustee inmates) who patrolled the barracks at night keeping watch over several thousand men. Henry particularly hated these Kapos. He couldn’t understand how someone could turn on their fellow Jews in order to obtain special privileges from the Germans.